Loving Hate
by ShinigamiStar
Summary: Draco Malfoy never suspected that he would fall in love with his worst enemy. Now that he has he doesn't know what to do. SLASH! H/D
1. To Love Thine Enemy

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts, and all other things Harry Potter' do not belong to me. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury among others. Only the story is mine, and I am making no profit off of it.

WARNING! This is SLASH if you do not like the idea of two men falling in love, and so forth do not read it! Turn on your heels and run away, because, seriously, no-one is forcing you to read it. If you do however have an open mind, go ahead, and enjoy!

This chapter is dedicated to my friend Hannah, who has not only been there to laugh with over crazy quotes, and all things H/D, but has also been there to talk to, always with an open ear, and an open heart. It was also her birthday last week so yes. Hannah, you've influenced this story in more ways than one thanks.

All thoughts are in '

Dialogue is in ""

LOVING HATE

CHP 1: TO LOVE THINE ENEMY

__

I love you...

I hate you...

I can't get around you...

I breathe you...

I taste you...

I can't live without you...

I just can't take any more...

this life of solitude...

I guess that i'm out the door...

and now i'm done with you...

-Always', Saliva

Draco Malfoy had been many things throughout his 17 years of life, so many things that even he couldn't keep track of them all; although, even he would admit that he would rather not even THINK about some of them. BUT if there was one thing that Draco Malfoy was not, it was weak. Sure, he had Weak _Points_ but he was not actually weak. The thought of being weak wasn't even really tangible to Draco ("Me, _Weak?! _never!"), for Slytherins were not weak, and what was Draco Malfoy if not Slytherin, and Slytherin if not Draco Malfoy? The fact that Malfoys were "not weak" could also be taken into consideration, but Draco would rather not touch base on that one. Oh no, he most definitely did not fancy thinking about that.

So, if Draco Malfoy was not weak in character (which he was sure he was not), why was he spending so much time pondering his one true weakness? Why, oh _why_ was he thinking about the bane of his existence, his archenemy. Why the bloody hell was he thinking about _Harry Potter?!_ The answer to that question was making a nice job of eluding him, along with the answers to other questions concerning Potter, including: "When had he started considering Potter his weakness?" the disturbing: "Why did Potter hate him?" and the even more disturbing: "Why did **he **hate Potter?" Draco sighed, rubbing his temples. He hated when he thought too much, because when he started thinking too much, he started to consider. Considering was not a good thing (especially when it came to Potter). He sighed again, standing up. Thinking was DEFINITELY not a good thing.

It was thinking (or rather, thinking about Potter) that had got him into this predicament in the first place. Hell, maybe it wasn't even Thinking-About-Potter's fault, but actually Potter's. Well. If he really wanted to trace it back, he could blame it all on Snape; for pairing them in Potions that day.

~*~

__

Double Potions, it was easily Draco's favourite class, if not only for the reason that Harry Potter hated it. But there was more to it than that. A well-concocted potion gave you power no regular charm or spell could give you. Their solubility, and absolute ability to be disguised gave you the power to kill while still having the victim's complete and total trust. And yet almost every poison's cure, if you looked hard enough, would be found in a potion. You could hold someone's death, or health in one glass. Heaven, and hell in a teaspoon. The absolute beauty, the power of it, sent shivers up Draco's spine. Potion making was an art unequalled in any field.

Today however, Snape was in a bad mood, and if anybody (even Draco) irked him even slightly they would get nasty consequences. As Snape scribbled down the remaining ingredients for today's Potion, Draco snuck a quick glance over at the Gryffindor side of the room. Potter, who was sitting with the Weasel looked almost as badly temper as the Potion's Master himself .. I wonder what's got HIM today.'

__

By the time Draco turned around to face the front, Snape was glaring maliciously at the class. "Well.. I think that today's class calls for a slightly Different,_ arrangement. Granger! Sit with Bulstrode! Patil, Parkinson! Thomas, Crabbe! Potter, Malfoy!"_

Draco groaned inwardly as Potter picked up his bag, and switched places with Goyle (who was now sitting with Weasley). He should have known Snape would pull something like this today. Pairing Gryffindors and Slytherins was always his favourite thing to do when he was not in the best of moods.

Potter sat down heavily next to Draco, not even glancing at the other boy. Anger was pouring off of him in waves; from the frown lines where his lips turned down, to his stiff posture. Ah yes, now was the perfect time to bug Potter, there was none better. And of course, he knew just _how to do it._

"Well, well Potter. Seems that you've finally realized that the mudblood and the weasel are not worth the dirt on your shoes. Finally seen the mistake that you made on the train? Bravo, I say, Bravo!" Draco smirked, oh how he loved to play with the boy who lived.

"Shut up, Malfoy."

__

"What Potter, finally gotten tired of all the praise? Sorry to rain on your little parade there, but I wanted my turn, you know. Everybody deserves a turn, you know. A turn to praise the Boy Who Lived." This ought to work. If it didn't Eureka! Potter turned toward him, his eyes a dark stormy green saying a thousand word that could never be said, showing a million things that could never, would never be seen outside that sea of green. Draco's breath caught in his throat. Potter, in his moment of anger was one of the most breathtaking things Draco Malfoy had ever seen. His hair, in every direction, his cold star. It was BRILLIANT- and sexy in every possible way. No, no, I did NOT just think that. Harry Potter is NOT sexy.' 

Then Potter spoke, breaking Draco out of his little reverie "You don't know what you're talking about Malfoy."

Oh Potter. What a stupid, STUPID thing to say,' _Draco laughed in his head. It was just TOO easy. "You're right Potter, I don't. Maybe because you've had fame ever since you were in your nappies you think everybody has it. But no Potter, we don't. So, no Potter, I don't. I don't know what it's like." Draco smirked. He knew this would do it. However, he did quite expect_

Harry jumped up from his seat and grabbed the front of Draco's robes, leaving him momentarily stunned. "You know what Malfoy? I'm sick and tired of your little games_. I'm tired of having to worry about what you're going to say, or do. Hell, I'm tired of even _THINKING _about you. And while we're talking I want you to know something else Malfoy, something a slimy git like you would probably never even think of. Just because I refused your friendship on the train that day does NOT mean that the end of the bloody world has come. It does not mean that we're destined to walk around biting each other's heads off for the rest of our fucking lives. Oh no, things aren't that black and white Malfoy. Do you know what it's like to hear your own mother dying? Do you? Do you know how much it fucking hurts? No, you don't. Do you know how much easier it would be for ME if you would just lay off, if I didn't need to worry about a stupid arse like you trying to make my life a living hell? Do you know how much easier it would have been for the BOTH of us if we had ignored each other for these last few years? Do you? You've got a lot to learn. Including how to see the shades of grey in this world. For Fuck's sake."_

At this moment Snape swooped down on them. "Mr. Potter! That is quite enough! Would you please let go of Mr. Malfoy and sit down!_"_

~*~

And so, Potter had lost 25 points, and they had both ended up with detention- separate detention.

but, for Draco, that, by far, was the better of the punishments that potions episode (for that's what he felt it was, another episode' of the "Malfoy/Potter showdown") had caused. He didn't know what it was that had changed during that speech Potter had performed, but it was something phenomenal. 

For all of Potter's talks of Shades of Grey' Potter had separated himself in Draco's mind. On side white, another black. One for Draco's God, another for his Satin. One for Harry, another for Potter. One for Love. One for hate.

This was when Draco started to realise something. The opposite of love was not hate, and hate, not love. They were both powerful emotions brought on by a person's feelings for another. The only difference between the two, really was the fact that one brought on positive feelings, and the other negative. The opposite of love, and/or hate was indeed, not the other, but indifference. Another common ground they ironically shared. The line between love and hate was very thin, and very easy to cross.

Draco had once seen a production of "Romeo & Juliet" by that play-write, Shakespeare. And somehow right now, it seemed completely and totally appropriate.

__

O brawling love, O loving hate!

O Anything of nothing, first create! 

For that's what this was. brawling love.' For he sure did love to fight with Potter But at the same time was plagued with the feelings of guiltiness, and well Love. He loved Harry, he wanted to go up to hi, in the Great Hall and snog him until he couldn't think.. He hated Potter. He wanted to suffocate him with that same kiss. The absolute feeling of yearning he felt combined with the regular hate had seemingly come out of nowhere, and it was driving him to levels of insanity that he had before believed impossible to reach.

My only love sprung from my only hate'

But he also knew that if anything were to happen between Harry and himself it would be of tragic ends. His father would see to that for sure. And the scary thing was.. he wasn't sure if that would be a good thing, or a bad thing.

Was it _really_ possible to love someone with all your heart, and yet hate them passionately at the same time? Draco wasn't quite sure anymore, he just wasn't.

*

END CHAPTER 1

AN-

I took a few liberties, and quoted various things, in numerous places. Naturally, the people to whom these quotes belong deserve credit:

-The chapter quote is from Always' by Saliva

-the opposite of love is not hate but indifference ' was at the top of a chapter of Irresistible Poison' by Rhysenn. Although this was not directly quoted, it was the source of Draco's rant/thoughts on the subject. I'm not sure that it's hers, but I give her full credit for that quote.

-Two quotes in the fic are from Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet'. A recent production of the play that I saw at the Stratford Festival of Canada, and especially Graham Abbey who played Romeo, inspired me greatly, and is responsible for a good chunk of this chapter. I guess I owe a great thanks to Shakepeare for writing the play, the play is also respectively his, as are the quotes.

__

-There is no Black and White, only shades of Grey.' Is from a song by the Monkees entitled Shades of Grey'. 

If I quoted anybody else unintentionally (I wouldn't put it past myself), please just tell me, and I'll give you credit. I'm greatly influenced by everything I see, hear, read, and do, so please do not take it the wrong way if I accidentally quoted you, and did not realise.

I would like to offer a great big thank you to my betas Eternity and Rory9. You guys are great this fic wouldn't be what it is if it wasn't for you. Also to the Girls on the H/D thread at F4F.. thanks for being there to talk to.

Well I guess that's all for now. If you would please leave a review, it would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Mysterious Characters

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts, and all other things Harry Potter' do not belong to me. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and Bloomsbury among others. Only the story is mine, and I am making no profit off of it.

WARNING! This is SLASH if you do not like the idea of two men falling in love, and so forth do not read it! Turn on your heels and run away, because, seriously, no-one is forcing you to read it. If you do however have an open mind, go ahead, and enjoy!

All thoughts are in '

Dialogue is in ""

LOVING HATE 

CHP 2: MYSTERIOUS CHARACTERS

Harry Potter was your average seventh year Hogwart's student. He wasn't exceptional at any of his classes, hated to get up in the morning, disliked homework, and loved Quidditch. There really wasn't anything special about him at all- unless of course you count the fact that he had beaten the unbeatable on numerous occasions and was viewed by most of the wizarding world as their saviour however, let's just ignore that for a second, because that my friends, was not the point.

The point was that Harry was a normal guy. S, _Why,_ was a normal guy like him receiving letters like this? Harry sighed for the umpteenth time, and looked at the letter in his hand. It was short, and simple.

__

Harry (it read)

Please meet me on the top floor of the Astronomy Tower at 11:00 PM tonight. Bring a winter cloak.

And that was it. He had no idea who it was from, for it had obviously been written with a Quick Quotes Quill (unlike Rita Skeeter's, it would have written the exact thing the person said), and gave no clues whatsoever to who it had been written by. Harry sighed yet again, he probably shouldn't go then, it could be dangerous, it could be a trap and yet 

"Harry! Is that note really so interesting that you have to stare blankly at it for 10 minutes? Or do you not want your bacon."

Harry's eyes snapped up from the letter and met Ron's glare guiltily "Uh yeah, go ahead, you can take it."

Hermione looked up from her book to look at Harry as Ron took the bacon. She looked at Harry petulantly, "What _is _ that note about anyway?" and quietly, "Is it from Snuffles?"

Harry shook his head "No. Here, take a look." He handed it across the table to her. She snatched it, and read it, Ron leaning over her shoulder as she did so. Hermione stared at it for a while just as Harry had (or maybe it was just her book, which was lying beneath it), but Ron looked up and asked, "So, are you going?"

"I'm not sure I mean"

Hermione's head shot up, "He most certainly is _not_ going! This could be a trap! Ron, this note was obviously disguised. You-Know-Who will probably send someone up there with a portkey or something of the sort. Most likely Malfoy, the slimy little git's been practically insufferable for the last little while."

Harry looked at her, she did have a point after all, and he wouldn't put it past Malfoy to plan something like that. The nasty twit had been at his worst for the last two weeks; ever since that potions class

Ron, on the other hand, just rolled his eyes and interrupted Harry's thoughts with "Blimey Mione! Can't you see the obvious? Harry's got a secret admirer! Astronomy Tower, night, disguised writing, what else could it be?"

Hermione just sighed, "Okay, if you are feeling to dense to see what's directly in front of your nose.."

Harry stood up and snatched the note from Hermione. "Look guys, I think I'm going to go— with the invisibility cloak, incase it _is_ some sort of trap," He looked over at Hermione, who was making a point of looking extremely unhappy, and sighed. "Look Herm, I'll be extra careful; I just need to know what this is all about." _And why it feels so important that I _do_ go'_ he added to himself.

Hermione sighed, as she stood up, "Well. I guess so. As long as you're careful," she glared at him. "_very_ careful."

Ron grinned as he got up to join them, "And as long as you tell us all the gory details."

Harry grinned back at them, answering them both with one simple reply, "Don't worry, I will be."

~*~

As the day was coming to an end, Harry found himself flying around the Quidditch Pitch. Practice was long over, but he needed somewhere to be by himself; somewhere where he could think without being bugged by Ron and/or Hermione, no matter how good their intentions were when they started to bug him. Luckily Ron (who was now a chaser on the team), had not finished an important Transfiguration Essay which was due the next day; meaning he had to go inside, leave Harry in peace, and best of all: alone.

Harry slowed down a little, balanced himself carefully on his Firebolt, and flexed his shoulders. Slowly he felt the tension from hours of practice — and worry — leave them as he flexed and stretched them. This was why he loved flying the feeling of satisfaction, of freedom it offered. The fact that even when he stopped flying, or finished a practice, he knew he had done something worth while, something he was good at. Something that for once in his life, was just for _him_. Even as he sat there, feeling weary to the bone that thought, that wonderful feeling, was part of what let all the tension flow all of his worries seem that much less. This was probably part of the reason he had chosen to do his thinking up here, in the sky. Not only could no one reach him, but he also knew he could think straight, concentrate on what he needed to, and do exactly what was right for _him_; not for the wizarding world, not for his friends, not even for the Boy Who Lived, but for _Harry_. And this, to put it as simply as possible, was why he was up there right now; because, for all his certainty that morning about meeting this person (for that was what he had decided to call them), he was feeling a bit nervous. And more than a little scared.

What if Hermione was right? What if this person _ was_ a Death Eater, and he was walking straight into their nice little trap? What would he do _then_. The answer to that was actually fairly simple for Harry: He'd run for his life, tell Dumbledore that there was a Death Eater in the castle, and hopefully save some innocent lives. For that reason, he almost _wanted_ to go and yet, not want to go at all. He was sick of being the Boy Who Lived, the people's saviour, the one that every Death Eater wanted dead. He was sick of it, and he didn't want to face it anymore but that still wasn't the reason he was nervous. The reason he was nervous was the fact that _Ron _ could have been right. Scratch that nervous didn't even half describe the way he felt: He was _Terrified_.

Secret Admirers were things that giggly Second- or Third- year _girls_ dreamed about; and the fact that this person might be a giggly Second- or Third- year girl wanting a late night snog under the stars with the "Boy Who Lived" just added to the whole mess. AND, if they did end up snogging for that matter, would he really want to give up his first ever kiss to someone he barely knew? Would they be able to tell that he had never kissed anyone before? Harry sighed and forced these thoughts from his head. He would just have to hope that this person (whoever they were), was a mature, hopefully _senior_ student, who just wanted to get to know him better. If they just wanted to snog, well too bad for them, for when he thought about it, he really _didn't_ want to give away his first-ever-kiss to someone he (most likely) hardly even knew in the first place, and that was that! 

For some surprising reason Harry wasn't actually all that scared of the possibility that this person could be a boy. Although, in the future when he looked back on it he would find it bizarre, this just didn't bug him. Maybe he just didn't give it much thought, maybe he just figured that it was all a big mess whether it was a boy, girl or porcupine. Maybe it was something else altogether. Whatever the reason was, well, he didn't give a rat's arse anyway.

The sun had completely set now, and the only light came from the slowly appearing moon and stars. Harry sighed, knowing he had to go in now, and landed. Maybe he just shouldn't go; it was causing him too much grief. And yet somehow he knew this wasn't an option. Something inside him told him to go, that this was important. Harry was not someone who ignored his instincts- they were as vital to him as life itself — and right now they were telling him to go, to not ignore this, this thing. Whatever it was.

That was it, he decided, feeling more confident, and determined than he had in a while. He was going to go, and that was that. If it was a Death Eater, or something of that nature he would report it, which was an important thing to do (if not for himself, for his world). If it was a secret admirer, he would take it in stride, and deal with it the best he could. With one final look up at the stars (they were so bright, and seemingly magical that night) Harry wished on a particularly bright one that it all would go well.

~*~

Harry walked up the final steps of the Astronomy Tower, slightly out of breath. He looked at the closed door in front of him: so this was it. The rational part of his mind was now telling him to run, for it was his last chance to d so, but the far larger irrational part knew that he wouldn't, he _couldn't._

He removed his invisibility cloak and draped it over his arm, along with his winter cloak. He knew that he would be given away as soon as he opened the door anyway so there was no point in wearing it. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door; read to throw on the cloak and run, at any moment

Harry surveyed the room in front of him, it was almost as beautiful in here as it had been outside, with the stars shining down through the glass ceiling. The telescopes were all carefully stored away, and the full moon illuminated the class with more light than Harry had previously believed possible. Obviously Professor Sinistra hadn't been up there yet to set up for tonight's class that however was no surprise; Sinistra was notoriously late, and because of the Full Moon, the class was to be held at 1:00 AM. After a second that had seemed like an eternity Harry's eyes finally fell on the center of the classroom. It was empty except for a figure dressed in black from head to toe: they had a heavy black cloak on, with the hood pulled up, shrouding their face in black. Harry froze like a deer caught in headlights. It was a Death Eater. He had to run. _Now!!!!_ So why weren't his legs obeying him?

The person must have sensed his discomfort, for they called out after him, just as his legs started to work, "Harry! Don't run!" The voice was obviously disguised; it was male, musical, magical, and beautiful in a way that Harry couldn't describe. Somehow he knew that even if this mystery man's voice hadn't been disguised, he would like it: if not simply for the sole reason that it made him feel completely relaxed in a way that only flying had done before. 

The man drew his wand and dropped it in one fluid movement, "I just want to talk, I won't hurt you. I Promise."

~*~

END CHP 2

AN

Ha! I'm done!

Okay, so first of all a great big thanks to everyone who reviewed, or even just took the time to read it in the first place it means more than you can know.

So, yes. Thanks to: Hannah, Val, Diabola, Juniper Winner, and Bridget McKennitt (I love that quote too ^_^). 

I know that _Don't worry, I will be'_ is from the CoS movie. I just couldn't think of anything else to say.

Erm, suprisingly there is nothing more I really have to say other than the fact that chp 3 might take a while because of the emotional capacity it will take to write it, and at the moment it is going at a slug's pace. I do however hope to get it up to pace so sorry to those who actually care.

Oh yes, and thanks to my betas: Rory9 and Eternity. You guys are simply loffly.

TTFN


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